


You Bought It, You Fix It

by Regency



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, Flirting, General contractor Bernie Wolfe, Id Fic, Meet-Cute, Slow burn who? FAST BURN. Fast Bern even., The tightest blue jeans in Holby City, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 03:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: AU. When Serena and Robbie were buying a house together, they agreed to appear on a home improvement reality TV show on a lark. Now that they’ve broken up and Jason is a permanent fixture in her life, Serena would like to make some changes. Bernie Wolfe, the new general contractor forYou Bought It, You Fix Iton BBC One, is only too happy to help.





	You Bought It, You Fix It

Serena scrolled down her mobile screen reviewing her backlog of work emails. Six from Hanssen. Three from Ric. Guy Self, four. Jac Naylor, one. Two from Antoine Malik and one last from Colette Sheward. _Now there’s a surprise._ Serena made a mental note to read those first when she’d have a chance to respond. Two past colleagues getting in touch on the same day; there was bound to be something interesting mixed up in all that. Unquestionably more interesting than pacing outside her car for an hour while waiting to see the state of her new fixer upper.

She had called in a handful of favours to be here this afternoon. Jason had even taken a personal day to join her, but the Deputy CEO was hardly expected to take days off. There were board meetings to attend and then AAU to oversee. She’d been forced to leave her board seat and her ward in Ric Griffin’s dubiously trustworthy hands. All because she and Robbie had had a bit too much to drink one night and applied for a spot on BBC One’s  _You Bought, You Fix It._

She massaged the bridge of her nose to quell her rising headache. Why she had thought such a thing might be enjoyable was a question for Serena Campbell two bottles deep in her cups; sober, she hadn’t a clue.

“Are we going to be much longer, Auntie Serena?”  Jason was usually patient enough with Serena when he was able to bring his own material to occupy himself, but this was bordering on excessive. 

“I don’t know. It doesn’t appear they were as ready for us to visit as they first said.”  They’d scheduled a walk-through of their new house for a quarter after ten. It was just going half eleven and Jason was getting restless.

“This doesn’t bode well for their organizational skills. They’re quite behind schedule.”

“So they are.”  

Had Serena not already signed a binding purchase agreement for the new house and filmed the bulk of her appearance on the show with Robbie, she would have gladly backed out of the whole ordeal and made a home for her nephew and herself in the old homestead.  As it was, Serena was forced to admit that she’d been hasty in throwing her lot in with Robbie the Bobby, as Fletch and Raf insisted on calling him.  She was at a point in her life where she wanted to build a home with someone and he’d seemed a good candidate. Until he met her nephew and presented Serena with the ultimate irreconcilable difference–that she loved Jason and Robbie, for whatever reason, could not. He had made his spite clear in the most offensive terms; Serena would have no more to do with him from then on. 

She checked her watch again. The budget meeting she was scheduled to sit in on would just be kicking off at the hospital.  She had given Ric a detailed dossier delineating what he should be arguing on her behalf, but she was doubtful he’d keep to it. That was the danger of designating a proxy, only their good word bound them to the board member’s wishes.

“I could go for some movement any time now.”  Several production assistants had fluttered past Serena to offer her beverages and snacks from the craft service vehicle though none had been able to offer an ETA on the show host or producer.  Apparently everyone was on a telephone conference in one of the production vans getting a tongue lashing from the BBC studio executives.  She wasn’t supposed to know that. Serena had employed some classic maternal pressure to get one of the younger assistants to spill the beans and then taken a vow of secrecy that she wouldn’t tell.

Just when Serena was gearing up to march inside and interrogate the first competent-looking person she met, a blonde woman in rugged work boots, a heavy jacket, and flannel appeared from inside the house. She blocked her eyes from the sun to see Serena parked at the kerb and waved.

“Serena Campbell?” The blonde had a husky, ringing sort of voice Serena might enjoy in other circumstances.

Serene could just make out the woman’s features if she squinted. She spied deep-set eyes atop a thin, prominent nose and high cheekbones. Serena scoured her fleeting memory of the production crew in an attempt to place her. Try as she might, Serena couldn’t recall having met her before, but as the Imelda Cousins imbroglio had demonstrated, she wasn’t nearly as good with faces as she’d like to be.  Serena gave Jason’s arm a pat through the car’s open window and left him to watching a documentary on his tablet.

The flannel-clad woman met her on the pavement at the foot of the drive with a warm handshake.  “Ms. Campbell, I’m Bernie Wolfe, your new general contractor.”

This was the first Serena had been hearing about a changing of hands for her home improvement project. “I thought I’d be working with Mr. Dunn.”

Bernie grimaced and shook her head.  “There was a shakeup in management. Above my pay grade, I’m afraid, but I’m given to understand he’s taken a leave of absence. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“I hope it won’t be.”  She lowered her expectations; reorganization mid-stream didn’t bode well for any project.

“You wanted to meet for some reason. Do you have concerns?”

“I didn’t at first, but now that I’ve been forced to wait for over an hour, I’m beginning to worry there are organizational issues at work.  I value efficiency, Ms. Wolfe, and this isn’t very efficient.”

“Everything in its own time.” The opposite of Serena’s professional philosophy.

“Alas, it’s beginning to encroach on  _my_  time and my time is very valuable.”

Bernie’s features tightened. “So is mine. I trust this won’t take very long, Ms. Campbell.”

Serena took a mental step back. Probably best not to antagonize the woman responsible for wiring the electricity. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to imply your time isn’t valuable. I wanted to discuss making some changes with you.”

Bernie seemed to think it over. “It is rather late in the game…but I can try to accommodate you. Come this way, I’ve got your blueprints inside.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for the cameras?”  Serena had seen no less than three camera persons file past her en route to who knew where.  She wasn’t especially eager to be on-camera again, but she had primped for the occasion.

Bernie glanced down at Serena’s blouse and trousers with a cursory pit stop at her kitten heels.  There was nothing in her expression to indicate she was unappreciative Serena’s efforts. If her eyes happened to tarry at the low neckline of Serena’s camisole a second too long, Serena wasn’t going to complain. She had dressed to be noticed and here came the notice--and  _so_ attractively packaged at that.

Serena touched her pendant and Bernie swiftly cast her eyes toward the rose bushes blooming beside the front steps. She knew she’d been caught.

“Er, no cameras this time. Sorry. We usually like to get the homeowner’s spontaneous reactions, but with everything going on at the moment, we’ll have to handle all that later. If you’ll just follow me.”

Bernie escorted her through the refinished front door to the foyer with its vaulted ceiling and curving staircase boasting an expansive view of the upper floor landing. It was surprisingly cozy for its grandiosity, and Serena was reminded of why she’d fallen in love with the house in the first place. There was nothing lonely about this house.

“It’s just through the living area. I’ve set up shop in the formal dining room.”

They passed through an arched entryway that opened to a bright, airy living room. The floors were hardwood, a light colour that hadn’t yet seen a spot of the darker stain Robbie preferred.  The white coffered ceiling stood in stark relief to the bare cream walls.  Hazy morning light poured in through the windows occupying the walls on two sides: a wide bay window overlooking the garden in front and a bank of casement windows overlooking the lush grass growing alongside the house.

Serena clasped her hands over her chest. This was what a home was meant to look like, not a place bogged down in anger and regret, but a refuge of warmth and love and light. She couldn’t help exclaiming as she moved from window to window. There was even a window seat in the cradle of the bay window. She could see Jason in the car from here.

She turned back to Bernie.  “This is spectacular.”

Bernie lowered her head and worked the steel toe of her boots along the unvarnished floor.  “Would you say it’s better than when you first saw it?”

“Worlds better.”  Robbie had convinced Serena to purchase a fixer upper they could put their mark on and, though she’d been sceptical at the time, she was grateful for the results.

“Are there any changes you’d like to make so far? We’re the farthest along in this room, the dining room, and the kitchen; things are about to be finalized.”

“I like the floor as it is. The natural colour of the wood opens up the room. Let’s nix the wood stain.”

Bernie took a pen out of her inside pocket and made a note in blue ink on the back of her hand. “Wall colour?”

“I’ll consult my nephew. We’ll make a project of it. Leave it.”

“Will Mr…” Bernie grimaced in apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember his name. Will he be joining us today?”

Serena grimaced herself.  She wasn’t looking forward to this part.

“Is everything all right?” asked the general contractor with what seemed to be sincere concern.

“Fine, only recent life changes necessitate some changes to the floor plan.  That’s why I’m here.”

“I‘m not sure I follow...”

“Robbie and I–Robbie, that was my partner–we’re no longer together.”

Bernie’s eyebrows shot up under her sandy fringe.  “I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Better that we found out before we got too mixed up in each other. All that to say, I’m single now and I don’t anticipate having a partner anytime soon. But there’s also a new addition to my family: my nephew Jason will be living with me from now on and he’ll need his own space.”

“Understood. The dining room is just this way.”

Serena trailed the other woman through a second archway leading to the dining room. The coffered ceiling and hardwood floors carried through. A rustic wooden table occupied the centre of the room. A haphazard pile of rolled blueprints sat to one end of the table while a water cooler and snack tray filled on the other. A hodge podge of laptops and other electrical equipment cluttered the middle. There were half-eaten sandwiches and partially empty cups of coffee littering all the spaces between. 

Bernie made quick work of tossing the trash in the bin under the table.  “Sorry about the mess. We usually have someone to keep all this in order, but they’re wherever the rest of the powers that be have gone, so we’re muddling through.” She pulled a straight back chair out for Serena. “Have a seat.”

Serena sat in bemused consideration while Bernie fluttered around the table, rifling through the disorganized chaos till she located the floor plan she sought and unrolled it in front of Serena. She hovered at Serena’s shoulder, non-dominant hand extended so she could recite the notes she’d scribbled on herself.

“Leave the walls unpainted. Natural wood colour for the floors…”  Bernie began to make notations on the blueprint of the rooms downstairs in carpentry pencil, and then flipped to another sheet labelled  _Upper Level_.  “Let’s talk this out and see if we can’t give Jason a room of his own–in addition to the original two bedrooms, is that correct?”

“Yes. One will be for me and one for my daughter.”

Bernie narrowed her eyes in thought.  “The framing’s done and the walls have already gone up on the second level. It would add days, if not weeks, to our timetable to demo all that and frame it again. Are you willing to bend on the home office?”

Serena worried the double charm on her necklace. She had been hoping for an office as working in the kitchen had lost its lustre some time ago. But Jason needed his space and though Elinor was unlikely to spend any amount of time in the new house, by her own admission, Serena wanted to keep a place for her. “I suppose I have to. No home office and we’ll make it a bedroom for Jason.”

“Then, that’s that.” Bernie scrutinized the floor plan while nibbling on the end of her pencil. “Now to figure out what’s to be done about a bathroom situation. There’s a half-bath for guests on the main level and the master bedroom, your bedroom, has an en suite upstairs, but there’s only one bathroom allotted for the second bedroom and really no square footage to make another addition.”

“Could they share?”

Elinor would never share with Jason, nor would Jason fancy the idea of anybody mucking up his very particular sense of order–Serena had found that out the hard way in their brief time together–but if Elinor were never in residence, it would be a shared toilet in name only.

Bernie cocked her hip on the edge of the table. “That isn’t out of the question, come to think of it. We’d have to knock through the shared wall to make an access for your nephew’s room, but that would solve our issue nicely.” Bernie made another note in incomprehensible graphite shorthand. “Good quick thinking, Ms. Campbell. We could use you on-site more often.”  She shot Serena an admiring smile which Serena found herself returning with unnecessary intensity.  Bernie wore the pressure of her position well. Nearly as impeccably as she wore flannel.

“Problem solving is part of the job.”

Bernie’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, what is it you do again? I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to review your profile since I took over the project.”

“Deputy CEO and lead clinical consultant on AAU, Holby City Hospital.”

Bernie puckered her lips and her eyebrows ticked up in an expression of genuine surprise.  “Talk about your high-octane professions. It’s a wonder you found the time to join us.”

“You can be assured, it wasn’t easy.”  Serena wasn’t looking forward to having her ear bent on the matter later on.

Bernie seemed truly contrite.  “Of course. I meant to apologize for the wait earlier.”

“But I stepped on your toes before you could.”

Bernie graciously elected not to confirm Serena’s suspicion.  “There’s a lot of uncertainty upstairs and a great many egos clashing in the boardroom. I’m just trying to keep my head down and get the job done for our clients.”

“I’m satisfied with your work, so far. Everything looks shipshape.” Serena knew the bare minimum about home improvement from watching fix-it shows on television.  Bernie could show her a floor plan for a children’s playhouse and Serena would probably consider it to have some architectural merit.  Hammer and nails weren’t really her bag.

Bernie shrugged off Serena’s praise. “You haven’t seen anything much yet. Would you like to?”  She waved a hand toward the upper level. “Upstairs and everything?”

“Could I?”

“You came all this way, you might as well get your money’s worth. I need to mark the wall in the converted study for demo, anyway. We could go right now if you have the time.”

“I’ll make time. It isn’t as though I can get any later on my day off.”

“I suppose not.  Did you want to bring your nephew along? I thought I saw him in the car outside.”

“Now that you mention it, I should. Give me two minutes.”

“Take as long as you need.”

Serena retraced her footsteps out of the dining room through the living room, out of the foyer back to the car to find Jason holding court with a passel of production assistants in headsets outside the car.

“Is everything all right, Jason?”

“Auntie Serena, these are the production assistants—Elise, Capheus, Savannah, Trini, and Sheetal. I was telling them about the alleged burial place of the Iceni queen, Boudicca, or Boadicea if you prefer an alternate Latinization. There’s going to be a new documentary publicizing attempts to discover her final resting place next year and they’ve applied to join the crew. Isn’t that exciting?”

“It’s very exciting. I wish you all the best of luck with the application process. Jason, Bernie—the new contractor—is ready to show us around. Would you like to see what progress they’ve made on the house?”

“I don’t know, we’ve been made to wait a long time.  Is it very disappointing, Auntie Serena? I don’t want to see if I’ll only be disappointed.”

“Nothing I’ve seen has disappointed me. We’re making changes to the plans to undo anything we don’t like.” Meaning everything that Robbie had proposed.  Serena wanted every trace of his influence obliterated.

Jason rubbed his jaw. “That isn’t very efficient. Shouldn’t you have made your selections earlier in the process?”

“I did, but when I made them I didn’t have you to think of. Now I do and I want you to have input into the final plans for our new house. Would you care to weigh in?”

“I suppose I should if I’m to live here with you.”

“For as long as you want.”

Jason bid farewell to his cluster of admirers to join Serena and Bernie in the house. Serena made the introductions. Jason had a dozen questions right off the bat on everything from the energy efficiency of the housing materials to the cost of heating a home with such high ceilings.  Bernie answered all of his inquiries as thoroughly as she was able, scribbling the unanswerable on the inside of her wrist in blue ink for later research.  When she promised to get back to him Serena thought she might actually follow-through.  Jason would certainly hold her to that vow.

Bernie took point leading them upstairs, treating Serena to a gratifying display on Bernie’s stamina. She was like a goat on a slope flying up the stairs without losing her breath or needing to slow down. And her denim-clad arse was no less impressive from the rear perspective. Now that Serena had got past her initial annoyance, it was impossible for her to overlook how attractive she found her new contractor. Bernie was attractive, an enormous understatement if Serena had ever made one. Bernie was patient with Serena’s moodiness and skilled with her hands. Bernie was competent and confident without careening into arrogance. Last but hardly least, Bernie could wear a pair of denims to the hilt. Her jeans were things of wonder and beauty, cosseting her backside and muscled thighs as if distinctly for Serena’s enjoyment. Serena almost missed the last stair to the landing watching Bernie ascend.

Bernie stabilized Serena on the upper-level landing when she tripped. “Something the matter?”

Serena played at nonchalance, disregarding the heat crawling up her neck and Jason’s speculative humming. “No,” she said before Jason could add his two cents. “Everything’s fine.”

Bernie looked at her through narrowed eyes.  “You were staring at...did I sit on something? Paint or...?”

“I didn’t see any paint. I was trying to figure out what brand your jeans are.”

“They’re nothing special.”

“They look special on you.”

Ears colouring, Bernie crossed her arms and shrugged. “Ah, thanks.” She pointed toward the first door on the left. “Shall we get started?”

“Please, yes.” Anything to distract from Serena’s ogling.

Bernie tucked her hands into her back pockets, shooting Serena inquisitive looks as they made the rounds of the rooms up here. They encountered the odd worker installing drywall or sanding cabinetry. Each stopped to greet the new homeowners with a tip of their bright yellow hard hats. Bernie checked in on their progress and Jason peppered them with questions, all of which they answered more or less to Jason’s satisfaction after Bernie’s go-ahead.

Their tour drew to a momentary halt when Bernie ducked off to assist a couple of workers in mounting a new double-hung window in what was originally supposed to Robbie’s vaunted media room. Now it largely seemed to be a waste of space. Like Robbie himself.

“What do you think of the media room, Jason?” Robbie had designated this room his ‘man cave’ and preemptively declared it sacrosanct.  If that wasn’t a blinking red flag...

Jason inspected the long narrow room, exasperation clear in his expression. “Why do we need a media room when we have a living room?”

“You’d have to ask Robbie that.” 

Jason balked.  “I’d rather not speak to him again, if it’s all the same to you.”

On that they were entirely agreed. “We could turn it into a shared office space, if you like.”

Jason rubbed his jaw.  “That might be all right. Maybe it can be like a workshop for our home projects.”

She curbed the urge to rub his shoulder.  “That sounds lovely, Jason.”

He smiled at her praise and she loved him all the more for it. Not the home she’d planned but not a bad one to have at all.

Serena eyed Bernie at the opposite end of the room, braced on her toes as a worker used a nail gun to secure the window in place. Those jeans were somehow even better on second glance than Serena had first thought and she had thought about them quite a lot in their brief acquaintance.  Robbie had certainly not worn his jeans quite that well.

Bored of Serena’s silence, Jason wandered over to the electricians installing the wiring to ask more questions about energy efficiency.  Serena briefly considered intervening before someone was electrocuted, but Bernie re-appeared before she could, dusting wood splinters off her hands.  “Everything all right?”

“Perfectly fine. Jason’s the curious type and he’s decided today to be curious about your electricians. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“They’re used to it. My daughter’s the same way: a question for everything and three follow-ups for every response. You can imagine explaining the birds and the bees.”

“I can more than imagine it. I have that one and a daughter of my own who delights in vexing me, even now she’s in university.”

They both sighed. Motherhood.

“Since we’re on the topic...us—well, you. May I ask what led you to construction?”

Bernie managed a tolerant grimace. She’d been asked that question before undoubtedly, as Serena had been asked what led her to the bloody, gorey business of surgery. Women in a man’s world, both of them, and Serena had unwittingly put her foot in it. She was usually better at small talk. Blame the jeans.

Like the good sport she was, Bernie answered anyway. “I’m detail-oriented and good with my hands. It was this or medicine, and I eventually decided I’d rather repair buildings than people. Less pressure.”

“Less chance of anybody ending up dead, I’d think.”

Bernie disputed that. “Unless I misjudge a demolition, take down a load-bearing wall, and drop a house on an unsuspecting construction crew.”

Serena paused. “Beg pardon?”

Bernie forestalled her concerns.  “Don’t worry, your load-bearing beams are all in perfect order.  I won’t be dropping a house on you.”

“I won’t make the obvious Wicked Witch reference.”

“You’re not so wicked and you’re a damn sight better-looking than Elphaba Thropp.”

Serena preened somewhat under the indirect praise. “No green skin, for one thing.”

“You’d pull it off.”

“Flatterer.”

“It’s the jeans.” She winked. Clearly Serena’s continued observation hadn’t gone unnoticed. Serena offered a desultory shrug that belied the flush surely colouring her cheeks. She hadn’t been anything approaching subtle; today didn’t feel like a day for it, nor Bernie someone who’d berate her for it. What harm was a little mutually assured flirtation between consenting adults?

Bernie pointed out toward the hall.  “Shall we see about the other rooms?”

“Lead the way.”

Serena retrieved Jason from his close questioning of Bernie’s electrical team and trailed Bernie to the office that would soon be converted into Jason’s bedroom.  It was roughly twice the size of the media room with picture windows facing the back garden. It would get natural light at sunrise and have a beautiful view of the sunset. Serena lamented the loss; she did love a good view.

The landscapers were hard at work, turning over the soil in the flower beds to plant eye-catching seedlings that would grow into bountiful blooms as the season wore on.  Serena could imagine the scent of them already and smiled.

Jason regarded the scene below, his reaction a sober counterpoint to Serena’s. “Mum loved gardens. We never had any of our own, only flower boxes and potted plants but she loved them very much.” Serena stepped closer to him to let him know she was there.  Difficult as her own mother had been, she missed her every day; she and Jason had that loss in common.

 “Do you know what flowers she liked? We could plant some.” Serena had fond if drunken memories of planting her mother’s ashes in the Peace Garden. It would be nice to have a couple of sober ones to share. 

Serena half expected him to say it wouldn’t make any difference, that they wouldn’t bring her any closer than leaving flowers at her grave. Instead, he smiled and agreed. “I’ll make a list.”

“You do that, darling.” She squeezed his shoulder without thinking. He let her.

Bernie looked to Serena for support before wading in. “If you pass the list on to me, I can let our landscapers know. We could transfer a few living plants to the back garden. You wouldn’t even have to wait for them.”

“What do you say, Jason?”

“I’d like that.”

“Then, that’s what we’ll do. Thank you, Bernie.”

Bernie ducked her head, hiding her faint smile.  It was as attractive as her backside in those jeans, Serena decided. Not to mention exponentially more endearing.

The contractor took advantage of the lull to take out her trusty carpentry pencil to mark the wall adjoining Jason’s room to Ellie’s for a knock-through. It was the work of a moment.

Jason was rapt, as was his auntie, granted for a distinctly different cause.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

Bernie shot him a patient smile over her shoulder. “This is where your entrance to the loo will go. We didn’t plan for it initially, so we’ll have to improvise. Is that all right?”

Having met his cousin, Jason was sceptical. “Elinor won’t like it.”

Serena resisted the impulse to squeeze his shoulder again, opting not to breach his oft-stated boundaries repeatedly in the same day. “She’ll hardly be here and if she does visit, she can share mine. Don’t worry.”

“I suggest you be the one to tell her that. She’ll throw a tantrum if she thinks it was my idea.”

Serena suspected he had the right of it and wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation.

Bernie led them back to the hall, pointing out Ellie’s bedroom which was far from complete, featuring uncovered ventilation shafts in the ceiling and exposed insulation.

“Auntie Serena, where’s the bathroom? I think I need it.”

Serena deferred to their contractor. They’d glanced over the ground floor and hadn’t come to any completed bathrooms on their tour thus far.

Bernie rubbed her brow.  “Ah, the ones up here aren’t in working order yet as we haven’t finished the plumbing hook-ups. You’ll have to use the one downstairs. Go straight down the stairs and then around back. There’s a corridor leading to the kitchen and the spare room; the kitchen is second to last door on the right and the toilet is the next door after that.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Think you can find your way?”

“I think I can,” Jason assured Bernie.

Serena hoped so. “Shout if you get turned around.”

He scoffed.  “The house isn’t that large, Auntie Serena.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Jason went on his way, leaving the two women alone to peruse the remaining room, Serena’s bedroom.

Bernie stared after Jason to make sure he got back to the stairs all right. “He’s quite special to you, isn’t he?”

Serena adjusted the strap of her purse. “He is.  That’s why Robbie had to go. Can’t have a partner who doesn’t see how special he is or value his contribution to my life.”

“Well, I’ve never met this Robbie chap, but he sounds like an idiot to me. You’re well shot of him.”

Serena cocked her head. “You know what? I think you’re right. I can do a lot better, and I will.”

“I sincerely hope you do.” Bernie raised a shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. “I’d recommend keeping your options open. You never know what sort of...potential partner’s just around the corner.”

“Or even up the stairs.” Serena raised a significant eyebrow. Bernie met her challenge with an amused stare.

The moment was broken by a passing worker carrying a coil of extension cord.

“Erm, right. Your bedroom’s just this way.”

Bernie led her into the spacious suite Serena had claimed for the master during the initial walkthrough with Marcus Dunn, their original contractor. As on the ground floor, there were hardwood floors begging for accent rugs, but these had been varnished and polished to a high gloss. The high ceilings that had once been direly in need of upgraded electrical wiring and up-to-date light fixtures boasted subtle, recessed lighting. The walls were painted with a cream base coat. Serena couldn’t wait to hang a couple of prints between the windows once she’d settled on a colour.  A walk-in wardrobe occupied the left end of the room whilst a door to Serena’s admittedly disgustingly indulgent bathroom occupied the right.

Serena envisioned her four-poster in the middle of the room overrun with fluffy pillows and a cushy duvet she’d yet to buy. Floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with her old reference texts and the somehow endless collection of novels she meant to read without ever getting round to it. There was room for a small sofa of some kind and a vanity, perhaps a desk if she was careful in her selection.  As in Jason’s room, the windows overlooked the garden.  On breezy nights, the air would be sweet.  This room was going to be a dream refuge from her busy life at the hospital. Serena clasped her hands together, abuzz with anticipation. Forget waiting for completion, forget furnishing, she wanted to move in right now.

“Is everything to your liking?”

Serena rooted around for the words to convey how _much_ it was all to her liking.  This room was the first thing to go exactly as planned in months.

“You say you just took over today? What part of all this is yours and what’s he done?”

“It’s a bit of everything for both of us. I was his foreman. He coordinated the funding and input from our chief engineer and architects; I took care of the nitty-gritty of implementing the plans by our workers and oversaw demolition and renovation. Now I’ll be doing all of the above and then some.”

“That  _is_ a little bit of everything.”

 Bernie affected a modest air.  “No house is built by a single pair of hands.”

“I hope his were as trustworthy as yours.”

Bernie wiggled her fingers in front of her and Serena laughed.  Even overrun with ink, Bernie’s hands were gorgeous.  Clean, clipped nails topped long fingers. Her palms had the calluses expected of her professions.  Serena carefully sidestepped any consideration of how they might feel against her skin. She couldn’t say she was the type go about eyeing construction workers for sport, but she might have encountered her exception.

“I promise to double check everything before we give you the keys.”

“I hope you will.” Serena gazed gleefully around her. She couldn’t deny she was chuffed to bits by her new room, her new house, and not the least by her new acquaintance.  This was all going so well, she couldn’t be blamed for daring.  “I must admit I like your work a lot more than Mr. Dunn’s and I was wondering if you do side projects?”

That got Bernie’s attention. “Such as?”

“I want to add a pergola to the back of my house. I’m also thinking of adding a water feature to the back garden.”

Bernie made notes on the scant uncluttered area of her wrist.

“Do you have a paper allergy that prevents you from carrying a notebook?”

Bernie patted her skinny jeans to demonstrate the lack of storage space.  Serena considered advising the contractor that looser trousers usually offered better pockets, but she knew that to be far from true.  Women’s clothes were designed with the expectation of a handbag, and there was little room for that in Bernie’s world where space was so frequently at a premium.

“Forget I said anything.”  Discouraging Bernie Wolfe’s pursuit of the tightest jeans possible was the last thing Serena cared to do.

“Was that another crack about my jeans?”

“Not this time, though I’ve certainly noticed them.”

“I’ve noticed you noticing them.”

Serena’s executive diligence compelled her to lighten her tread somewhat. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m flattered. It’s not often my client’s a beautiful woman interested in the attentions of other women.”  Serena had made the right call in dressing to impress. She’d misjudged the target, not the impulse, and Bernie was a far better recipient for her efforts than any television camera.

“So I suppose you could say it’s both of our lucky days.” Serena closed the gap between them a couple of steps to test Bernie’s reaction. Bernie observed her approach with nary a protest, only a subtle darkening in her eyes Serena readily interpreted as keen interest.

“I’ll say.” Bernie caught herself, colouring at her blatant eagerness.  She cleared her throat and studiously ignored Serena’s teasing look.  “I should—we should finish the tour.”

Serena gestured for her to go on, firmly reminding herself that it wouldn’t do to be caught on camera snogging her contractor, however much the woman was spoiling to be kissed. Somehow she didn’t think the hospital’s publicity department would be impressed by her justification.

“Here’s the walk-in. Pretty self-explanatory.” Empty but spacious with plenty of shelving. Overall, a delight to behold. Not remotely as delightful as Bernie who took no pains whatsoever to ensure she didn’t brush against Serena on her way through the door. “This way’s the en suite.”

Once inside, Serena gave it a cursory look-see.  A couple’s vanities with plenty of counter space and under the sink storage. Mirrors already installed. A truly impressive shower fit for the queen herself or at least one of the most beloved spares and a clawfoot bathtub that filled Serena’s mind with all sorts of lovely imaginings of who she might share it with.  She’d registered her satisfaction at the state of the house, and she was quite satisfied, it was true. But, Bernie was becoming the much more worthwhile fascination.

Serena tapped her chin.  “I don’t know about the double vanities.” She sighed. “No partner, remember?”

Bernie regarded the tips of her boots.  “There’s your daughter who might visit—you mentioned her. Besides, the lack of a steady romantic partner doesn’t mean there won’t be...guests.” Serena gave herself permission to read Bernie’s tone as inquiring, perhaps even hopeful.

“Guests sharing my en suite?”

“Um.” Bernie raised her shoulder in self-defence.  “Very intimate guests could hypothetically need a place to wash up.”

Serena sauntered into Bernie’s personal space.  “And what might they be washing up from?”

Bernie’s throat undulated on a swallow as she licked her lips.  “Vigorous physical activity. I don’t know, changing a light bulb or killing a spider or something.”

“Just that?” Serena enjoyed the fifteen-odd seconds of silence that ensued while Bernie’s brain caught up to her mouth. She was very lucky flushing became her.

“There are other activities I could think of.” Her eyes flicked down to Serena’s lips, then away. As signs go, that one was impossible to misinterpret.

Serena brushed a splinter of wood from Bernie’s coat. “It’s a shame you won’t be there to change my light bulb. I think I might enjoy sharing a double vanity with you.”

Bernie touched a callused fingertip to Serena’s collarbone, following the outline of her necklace to the hollow of her throat.  “I could be. I make house calls.”

Serena’s pulse beat a rapid tattoo at her pulse point as in her ears. The brush of Bernie’s thumb at her throat only amplified the drumbeat.

“Do you do evening visits?”

 “And overnight.” _Bold, aren’t we?_ Serena much preferred Bernie bold to bashful.  What fun she and a bold Bernie Wolfe might have.

“I like your business model. It’s in very good shape, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Serena was drawn to Bernie’s smiling lips. What a couple of hours could do...

“I don’t know yours as well, but I don’t have any complaints about the look of things.”  Her renewed inspection dipped much lower than Serena’s lips and neckline, encompassing the whole of Serena and all she had to offer.  Serena wasn’t the only one satisfied with all she’d seen today.

Their flirtation was interrupted by an unsettling rumble resounding deep within the walls of the en suite.

“What on earth...?”

Bernie’s distracted question was cut off when a pipe leading to the sinks burst and water began gushing out from under the cupboard in a worrying deluge. They both swore and leaped back out of the splash radius.

“Terrific,” Serena groused. Just when she’d been about to make progress with her handsy, especially handy woman. And, of course, the possibility of water damage did nothing to lighten her mood.

Attention thus diverted, Bernie waved Serena back to the bedroom. “Stand back. This is going to be a mess. I don’t want you ruining your clothes.”

“They’re only clothes.”  Serena had been covered in all manner of bodily fluid. Water at the very least would dry.

Bernie fixed her with an appreciative leer.  “Not on you, they’re not. Hold my jacket please and keep well back.”

Serena took the olive jacket at Bernie’s urging and retreated to the bedroom doorway where the water had yet to reach.  “Should I get some of the workers from outside?”

Bernie grabbed a wrench of some kind from a toolbox left on the floor and dove under into the leaking cupboard.

“Bernie?” Serena tried a second time.

Bernie poked her head out, already soaked from the shoulders down. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve got it, thanks.” She got to it whilst Serena was left to her least enjoyable pastime: waiting.

So much for the kiss that had seemed inevitable.  Serena only infrequently met women who caught her fancy, so it was only natural for disaster to ensue when it seemed she might be getting somewhere. Maybe she was kidding herself and she was meant to be on her own.

Bernie was oblivious to her deteriorating mood, more concerned with her subordinate’s shoddy workmanship than the raincloud imitating a leaky pipe over Serena’s head.  “My days, who forgot to seal this?  We’re going to have words, whoever it was.”

She continued on the vein for the next ten minutes, narrating what she was up to and whose hide she’d have for failing to do the job right the first time.  Serena found her chatter strangely soothing to her riled and rather disappointed hormones. Once again, she couldn’t fault her view of the muscled legs extending from beneath her sinks or the backside shifting as Bernie did whatever it was she had to do.

The deluge rippling across the tile floor eventually began to slow until it ceased altogether. _Handsy_ and _handy._

Bernie squirmed from under the vanities and pulled herself off the floor, a look of profound disgust darkening her features with every squelch of her boots and sodden clothes. 

“Bloody hell.” Bernie rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. Her blonde hair was a murky brown with damp.

Serena regretted not having so much as a handkerchief to offer her. “All handled?”

“All handled.”

Bernie was wet down to her knees. Even her hair bore the signs of her struggle with the pipes. Her hands were as wrinkled as prunes and her palms were a tender red for torqueing the wrench. She was everywhere sodden. Hair, clothes, boots. Her flannel top clung to her arms and shoulders, offering Serena a tantalizing glimpse of her sculpted upper body. Serena had to remind herself not to stare. Twice.

Bernie picked at her shirt in dismay.  “Damn, this is a wash.”

“No pun intended?”

Bernie honked with laughter. Serena beamed. Bernie had a good, un-self-conscious laugh. Serena wanted to hear it more and more.

“Nothing for it, then.” Bernie yanked her flannel button-up off to reveal a damp white singlet that clung to her figure only slightly less. Slightly. It left very little to Serena’s excitable imagination. All Serena could see was white cotton stretched over freckled skin, and then muscles rippling hypnotically under that. Bernie had the physique of a woman who put her body to work. Serena was in an instant cognizant of what artists meant when they said they’d been struck by inspiration. Bernie Wolfe was the sort woman you painted until you ran out of watercolours, and then you sculpted her instead.

Speaking of watercolours…Of their own volition, Serena’s fingertips alighted on the starlit vista etched on the back of Bernie’s right shoulder. “I like your tattoo. Where is it?”

Bernie stilled; her muscles tensed and then relaxed under Serena’s hand.  “Kandahar. You wouldn’t believe the stars you can see out there.”

“You’ve been to Afghanistan?”

“I have.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises?”

Bernie smiled, this one slightly different from the others she’d shown Serena thus far. “I am.”

Serena followed the outline of Bernie’s defined shoulder to her defined biceps. The hair on the back of Bernie’s arm stood.

“Do you have any more?” Soaked though it was, Bernie’s vest did a more than fair job of covering Bernie above the waist. Serena couldn’t see a thing. She wanted to see everything.

“That’s just one of them.”

“I’d love to see the others.”

Bernie shot her a pensive look. “Maybe when I make a house call.”

Serena squeezed her elbow. “I’ll pencil you in.”

Bernie’s enthusiastic reply was interrupted by the entrance of a couple of hard-hat wearing construction workers and the realtor who had helped Serena purchase the house with Robbie all those months before, and behind her the camera crew.

“Ms. Campbell, my apologies for the wait. I was just having a word with the producer.”

The producer and host from Serena’s previous visits to the worksite appeared behind her and suddenly Serena’s spacious en suite was anything but. It was a space meant for two at maximum filled to bursting with no fewer than ten. With a warm smile and a quiet thanks, Bernie retrieved her coat and retreated into the background and out of view of the camera.  She was gone in the space of a blink.

“Shall we do the run-through once more for the cameras?” asked the producer, eager to make up for the time-money lost making her wait.  Serena was no longer as interested in the logistics of her home renovation as she’d been. She was more than happy to call it day and Jason’s timely return to the scene only cemented her reluctance to linger. This wasn’t their home yet; they were the guests.

“The sooner, the better. Jason?”

Her nephew loitered at the door. Crowds made him reticent as he wasn’t a fan of being touched by strangers; there were entirely too many strangers here for his liking. “Only if we can leave soon. I need to recharge my tablet.”

“That settles it. We’d better make this quick.”

Despite her earlier experience with the show, Serena was still surprised by how much camera crew was required to film a half-hour program. It seemed much more intimate on television.  The producer, host, and crew were nevertheless consummate professionals. They walked Serena and Jason through the main areas of the house for a few reaction shots as quickly as efficiency permitted. Jason ducked out of the proceedings when a grip accidentally thumped him with a microphone and Serena carried on alone, once more leaving her master bedroom for last. Her secretive smile upon returning to her beloved en suite had nothing to do with the carefully mopped floor. 

On her way out to meet Jason outside, Serena snagged the white card she’d noticed protruding from the sliding shower door. It was a business card for Wolfe Renovations & Repair _._ Bernie had circled her mobile number and beneath the hours of operation, she had scrawled, in her now tell-tale blue ink, _Light bulbs, spiders, other messes. Evenings and overnights on request. Don’t be a stranger._

Serena was composing a text before she’d reached the front steps.

**_Care to take a closer look at my business model this evening?  - Serena x_ **

**_Will I need to pack looser trousers? - B_ **

Serena rolled her eyes. Somehow she didn’t think she’d heard the last of her preoccupation with Bernie in those ridiculously snug jeans. She regretted nothing.

**_Darling, you don’t have to pack any. You won’t need them. – S x_ **

**_Ding dong. I’ll bring my toolbox. – B_ **

That presented some scintillating possibilities. Serena didn’t think it was the leaky plumbing at her old house Bernie had her eye on.

**_Can hardly wait. – S x_ **

Serena texted Bernie her current address and hummed a little ditty all the way back to her car. Her day off was looking up.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com/post/172082727310/fic-you-bought-it-berena).
> 
> Who asked for this? No one.
> 
> Author's Notes: Come squee about Berena with me on Tumblr at [sententiousandbellicose](sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, settings, or stories recognizable as being from Holby City. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story.


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